Simul Justus Et Peccator

Here we go
When I became the center of my gospel, I was tongue deep
Rudder dead center
Worshipping between one leg out in front of me
Expository annotating
Complementarian masturbating
Tradition-praising
Traditionalisticly berating traditionalists
Who failed to exist beneath the solas
And another leg that simply felt like power against my jawbone
(Keep forgiving)
We were the by-product of the benefit of the doubt
Compliments of the congregation
Consistently consenting itself
To sit beneath the smallest synchrotistic decisions
Rebranded as resurgence
Sold as ecumenicism
Call it rapture
Call it reconciliation
Call it the second coming
Call it consummation
Call it whatever your spiritual gift of communication can call it
To quantifiably convert converts into consumers
Call it replication
Call it a callused conscience that condescends your vocation
Call it condemnable
Call it a misappropriation of their calling
Calling command into consideration
Call it clearly exegetically rooted in creation
Call it an unconscionably reasonable explanation
Call it covenant, and constantly call it a commitment into question
Call it community and constantly second guess
And call it the body
Call it the body
Call it the body
Call it the bride
Make sure she gives you headship
Call her the first among equals and crown out that diadem
If you love her slow enough, she'll start to swallow your press
So somehow the neck is still to blame